Holding On to A Memory
by puffpygmy
Summary: April 14, 1943: It is with deepest regret and sincere condolences that I must write to inform you of the passing of Miss Mabel Watson.
1. Closing A Door

_April 14, 1943_

 _Dear Mrs. Holbrook:_

 _It it with deepest regret and sincere condolences that I must write to inform you of the passing of Miss Mabel Watson on this very same day at approximately two thirty in the afternoon after a short but tumultuous battle with pancreatic cancer. I understand that you and your sister were estranged for a long number of years, therefore I know not how this letter may find you._

 _It was Miss Watson's wish to be laid to rest alongside your father, and in gratitude for her work of over thirty years for both my mother and myself, I shall ensure that these final wishes of hers are seen to properly._

 _I'm sure you will soon be contacted by a solicitor regarding any legal matters, but until then please find enclosed a letter addressed to you from Miss Watson, as well as the possessions she asked for and kept close when she passed. You should also know that your sister went peacefully as I held her hand. She spoke of no regrets, was not in pain, was not frightened._

 _Respectfully,_

 _Lady Georgiana Clark_

* * *

 _My Dear Libby:_

 _I do believe my time is drawing to a close, and when you receive this letter it will have done so. Can two sisters truly hold such deep-seated bitterness and resentment for the rest of their lives for things that have happened so long in the past? I certainly can't find myself able to do so. Please know that on my end, it is gone. All has been forgiven._

 _Wherever this finds you, I hope you are well, and that you've gotten all out of life that you possibly could._

 _Lastly, I leave you with my final will. There is a small house in Reading, presently let, that was left to me many years ago by someone very special. I ask only that you care for this house, as I have for the past thirty years, and hope that it can help ease any burdens you might face._

 _My love always,_

 _Mabel_

* * *

She set the creased piece of creamy paper in a tent on top the other on the table. With a deep breath and pursed lips, Libby gently unwrapped the small parcel that had arrived with the letter from Lady Clark. As the paper fell away, her heart clenched in recognition of the book. Aesop's Fables. Their father had given Mabel that book on her twelfth Christmas, and Libby knew that her sister had cherished it ever since.

She ran her palm up the gold lettering on its face, allowing a small memory of that time so long ago to flit through her mind's eye. Her fingers curled around the top of the book, but stopped when a piece of paper jutting out from the pages poked against her skin.

She eased open the hardcover and thumbed to the page marked by the paper. As it fell into view, she found what she had thought a bit of spare paper to be a yellowed envelope with its corners beat down to little wrinkled stubs. Before examining the letter, she skimmed the page of the book it kept marked. There didn't seem to be anything of importance on it, only the faint line from the top to the middle of the page towards the binding that suggested the page had been mended at some point.

Turning her attention back to the yellowed envelope, she slipped open the piece of paper inside to find a short, hastily written letter. Her eyes moved to the header at the stationary, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth to suppress a soft gasp as she read the words stamped boldly in black ink,

On board RMS "Titanic"

She couldn't quite tell at which point while reading the few, heartfelt words on the little piece of paper she started crying, but she couldn't stop. And after finishing the letter and tucking it gingerly back into its book, she sunk to her knees and sobbed. With her face on the floor and her fingers embedded in her hair, she wept until the burden of her heartache felt light enough to bear.


	2. Opening A Window

The setting sun cast a brilliant glow over the ship. The shiny, white railing, even the wood of the deck glistened in the deep golden haze. The heels of boots she hadn't worn in decades made a hollow sound with each tentative step she took towards the man leaning against the railing at Titanic's stern. Perhaps she simply wasn't used to the constricting nature of a corset anymore, but Mabel was certain that even if her lungs weren't bound so tightly by the stiff fabric, she would still have trouble drawing a full breath. Because even though he was turned into the sun with his back to her, she knew it was him.

Mabel stopped just outside arm's reach. She pressed her fingers to her mouth and quickly turned away. No. This couldn't be right. Could it? It wasn't possible...this was just a dream. A cruel dream. There was no way that-

"Mabel?"

Her name was quiet. Oh, so quiet. Spoken so softly as if in disbelief. But it wasn't her name that made her turn around. It was that voice, one she hadn't forgotten in over thirty years, so familiar and so dear, that washed over her ears like a gentle, soothing balm.

Mabel tentatively turned back around and stood face to face...with him.

"Mr. Barnes-"

Before she could say a word she was in his arms. She clung to him instinctively, afraid that at any moment he could be whisked away by the ocean breeze. As they held each other, her thoughts went back to a time so long ago on this very same ship when, scared out of her wits, she had thrown herself into his arms. And he had held her. That memory was one which had gone on to pervade her dreams for so long, and, impossible though it was, now that it was happening again, she felt she might shatter into a million pieces if it wasn't real.

"I don't understand," she whispered into Mr. Barnes's shoulder.

He pulled away from her then. She looked at him fully for the first time, her heart fluttering as it seemed to simultaneously ache and rejoice at the familiarity of his face, as if afraid that this moment would be torn from her in one fell swoop. Even if it was, Mabel was fairly certain she'd stay grounded, if purely from the intensity of the way Mr. Barnes's eyes locked with hers. She laid a hand on his chest, running her fingers along the scratchy black lapels of his coat.

"Everything feels so real...but how could it possibly be?" she asked quietly.

Mr. Barnes shook his head, and she felt his thumbs rubbing the black fabric on top of her arms, which he held gently.

"I couldn't give you a good answer, only that it just...is. Only..." He paused, his eyes roaming her face.

"Yes?" she gently prompted him after he was silent for a few long moments.

"You see, the others who stayed here, they all had something tying them, in a way, to the ship. It's where they felt most alive, or where they were happiest, or felt free. They were surrounded by their families, or people they cared for. And for a while I couldn't figure out why _I_ had stayed. But then I realized something." The corners of his mouth turned into a smile. "I didn't stay on this ship for any reason other than the fact that I was on it when I fell in love with you."

Mabel could only stare at him, unable to do anything but slowly lift her hand and cup her fingers around the back of his neck. She almost had to suppress a laugh at the look on his face, caught somewhere between nervousness and intense emotion as he gauged her reaction.

"Mr. Barnes," she finally muttered, "I need you to know something very important. In the thirty-one years since this ship sank, and I lost you, I never married. I know it sounds silly, because we were never…" her eyes fell to a spot on his shirt. "But… you were always there. In my head and in my heart." His shirt blurred, and as she looked up at him again tears slowly tracked down her cheeks. She smiled. "Kenneth Barnes, even in death you continued to pester me. And I think you made me love you without even trying."

His face lit up with that boyish grin of his, and she couldn't help but brush back a few rogue strands of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. His gaze flitted around her face before landing on her lips. She distantly noted that his hands, still wrapped around her elbows, had pulled her slowly closer to him. As his head lowered almost imperceptibly towards hers, Mabel curled her fingers around the lapels of his coat and pulled herself up to meet him. She felt the tickle of his breath on her skin as their faces hovered millimeters away for only a second before his mouth met hers.

Neither moved, the feeling of the moment stilling their thoughts. Then Mabel parted her mouth slightly, letting him catch her upper lip between his. Kenneth's hands slowly wound around her back and gently cradled the nape of her neck, deepening the kiss.

As she stood with her love finally in her arms while Titanic sailed away from the sunset, a warmth filled Mabel's heart that surpassed any she'd ever known. It had been a long journey that crossed so many miles and had taken so much time, but finally, after every step she had taken, she was here. She was home.


End file.
